


Impressions

by melloak



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-11-06 07:30:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11031507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melloak/pseuds/melloak
Summary: Shadowhunters AU. There's a night and day Alec can't remember, and some kind of threat he should probably know more about. At least almost dying has an upside. The local Conclave has been at odds with Downworlders ever since Valentine's second attempted Uprising just a few short years ago and the return of the Lightwoods to the New York Institute. So when Alec has an opportunity to mend relations with the influential High Warlock of Brooklyn, the least he can do is his job.





	1. Not Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. Just wanted to post this before I never do. Please do not expect regular updates. This has been a work-in-progress since mid-February and writing does not come easy to me.
> 
> Constructive criticism is appreciated.

" _Magnus,_ " the vaguely familiar voice trembled in greeting. Magnus himself had already forgotten the name he'd seen lighting the screen. "There's a _Shadowhunter_ in the park."

He already regretted picking up the phone, regretted his next word as he asked it.

"And?"

" _He's lying on a tombstone,_ " the voice stressed. "There are _mundanes_ around."

By then, Magnus should have just ended the call. Instead he said, "I _still_ don't see the problem."

"He's not moving." A poignant pause, and the voice, nearing hysterical, settled to a hush. " _I think he's dead._ "

Magnus sat up in his chair and sighed, rubbing at his forehead to prepare for the oncoming headache. "Have you tried waking him? Talking to him?"

"Of course not." The voice was incredulous.

"Of course not," Magnus repeated flatly and sighed again, drawing it out. "Tell me where."

* * *

Magnus had barely passed through the gate when he turned and quickly walked out again.

He was the High Warlock; he could always delegate. Now was too soon. It would another century at the _least_ before he could stomach the sight of another Shadowhunter, even a dead one.

_Especially a dead one._

He was already some distance away when the recognization of the fact made him stop.

Not just any Shadowhunter, a dead one.

Magnus didn't know what he'd been thinking, coming back to New York at all after everything he'd seen, not spending an additional month, or twelve, _anywhere_ else. He wouldn't be _here_ otherwise.

He turned and stalked back to the entrance, feigning resolve and repeating to himself in tandem that he was the High Warlock of Brooklyn.

The High Warlock of Brooklyn had barely taken a few steps past the gate when he froze. And he stared.

He didn't know what he had expected. There _was_ a Shadowhunter on gravestone, or rather, carelessly draped across what appeared to be a tomb, legs dangling off one end, a bulge along one calf, visible even in shadows.

Dead, however, was debatable. The stretch of yellow light leaching in from between tree branches made his skin look particularly pale, and though his eyes were closed and his chest static, he was also ignored. Despite the late hour, the historic cemetery still swarmed with mundanes. It made him optimistic. He stared harder at the Shadowhunter, easily detecting the faint shimmer of glamour.

He relaxed. _Of course._ He doubted even the bystander effect would have prevented any reasonable mundane from calling the police. The handle of a second blade stuck out like a gun from a holster on his hip.

Magnus casually walked over to the tomb, taking a recently vacated seat on a bench by the Shadowhunter's head without looking away. His skin prickled, like he himself was being noticed

He glanced over the dark clothes covering nearly every inch of skin, including the rather questionable choice of turtleneck. Not the typical Nephilim leather armor of some years ago. Magnus recalled open eyes, empty expressions, and shivered.

"What do you want?"

The Shadowhunter barely moved his lips, voice low and breathy as he spoke. Magnus was only mildly surprised.

"Just checking in."

"Why?"

"You're making people nervous."

He scoffed, a quiet exhale of air. "Tell me something new."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Magnus sighed. "Why are you doing this?"

"Tired." The Shadowhunter barely seemed to breath, his voice a drifting whisper.

Magnus rolled his eyes. "I could be a mundane. Your glamour's fading. That's a pretty big risk for a Shadowhunter to take."

"You don't know me." He spoke in slow staccato, some strange inflection at the end.

"Easily remedied." Magnus leaned forward, wondering what he was doing, humoring some Shadowhunter instead of portaling him to some remote wood. He could only assume it was the relief of finding the Shadowhunter not-dead. It made him feel rather generous. "I'm Magnus Bane. What's your name?"

The other made some kind of throaty sound. "What kind of name is Magnus Bane?"

Magnus frowned. He felt somewhat offended, and he'd been trying to be _nice*._

"How about you don't play dead in public places?"

The Shadowhunter shifted slightly, turning his head to face him, eyes open to slits. "Why you?"

A shift in wind bathed Magnus with the smell of alcohol. Strong, but the Shadowhunter at least appeared to be managing it well.

Those damn runes.

Magnus' smile had a hint of teeth, and he leaned back on the bench, wood creaking ominously beneath his fingertips.

"You can't move, can you?"

"I can." His eyes closed the last degree and his chest rose once shallowly.

"Prove it. Get up."

His voice was a whisper. "I'm good."

Magnus stood. "Should I drop a line to the Institute? I'm sure they can spare someone to come help you up."

The Shadowhunter tensed, slightly but visibly, but ultimately responded with a rather unemphatic "no."

Magnus cocked his head, eyes narrowed. His voice held some ambiguous threat.

"Then get up."

The Shadowhunter was suddenly upright, or mostly. His feet were on the ground, but he staggered back against the stone. Taller than Magnus had expected, even as he leaned.

"Alright." His eyes opened halfway, orbs glassy. "I'm up."

Magnus hummed, moving to stand in front of the Shadowhunter, who didn't look at all stable. "That's step one."

"And step two?"

His lidded gaze was steady for a moment, but his eyes quickly wandered. He tilted his head up slightly, brow furrowed as he looked at Magnus' hair, then briefly, his face.

"You ok? Your face is green." The Shadowhunter frowned then, the lines deepening as he looked away, his voice losing its breathy quality. "Unless that normal for you."

Magnus frowned back at him. "I'm not green."

It took just a second for realization to strike, panic rising with it.

The Shadowhunter slumped further into the stone behind him, eyes closing. "You can leave now. They're gone."

Magnus looked around him; the place had emptied, the gates had shut, and he hadn't noticed.

Turning back to the other and striving for casual, Magnus asked, "have you, by any chance, been to Pandemonium recently?"

The Shadowhunter slid slowly to the ground and tilted his head up as if to look at Magnus though his eyes remained closed. There was the sheen of glitter along a single eyebrow. "Panda-what?"

Magnus grimaced. The last thing he wanted was to deal with the clave. He could only hope it wasn't too suspicious when he asked, "how about you come over to my place until you feel better?"

The Shadowhunter's head wagged to the side as he failed to hold it upright. "Why?"

"You're drunk." Magnus held his tongue to keep from sounding too harsh, though it was a matter of urgency. He didn't know how much time there was left. Probably for this reason he demanded when he meant to ask. "Come with me."

"I'm not. I didn't--" The Shadowhunter's voice was stronger then. Rather than argue, wasting precious time, Magnus knocked him out. It was unnervingly easy.

His body barely shifted, already well settled against the stone. Magnus conjured a portal as quickly as he could. Not his best work, but that was the point. He would need to conserve as much energy as possible to see the night through. He grabbed the Shadowhunter to shove him through first and followed immediately after, the portal nipping at his heels.


	2. Day After

Alec entered through the main door. No one looked twice at him, or at all if they could help it. He acted like he belonged, like he knew what he was doing though he didn't, and it was just enough to be pointedly ignored and not much else.

He made it through the rather crowded hall and past the weapons room, the small, mostly unfamiliar group preparing for patrol the only ones to attempt to prolong their glances. Curious about his bad side, he supposed, and though they'd arrived just the week before, they must have talked to enough people by now to know that it was well hidden. It was a wasted effort. He passed them by quickly, self-consciously tugging up on the high neck of his sweater once he was out of sight. Still, he felt at least one pair of eyes stay on him, the muted thud of rubber following.

"Hey _big brother._ "

"Isabelle." He met her singsong tone with carefully practiced formality, knowing better. He didn't turn his head, didn't slow or stop.

" _Alec,_ " Isabelle hissed when she was closer, falling into step beside him, his longer strides shortening unwittingly. "Where have you been?"

Her tone irritated him, prickling at the back of his head. It was easy to sound annoyed, but he still couldn't look at her.

"Taking a walk." His voice brokered no further discussion, like he had a choice.

"You never came back last night," she pressed.

He sighed. "Don't tell me you stayed up all night _again—_ " He nearly continued, but quickly bit his tongue before he let another syllable escape.

"I was worried," was all she said, like it was obvious. They were the last Lightwoods for a reason.

It was more than enough for the guilt to creep in, not an altogether new feeling, but awareness brought back to the surface, like he could ever really forget it. His face barely reflected the change. He used to be terrible at hiding things, but he was getting better, so long as he didn't look at her.

"I wanted to be alone." His voice was stiff, the answer minimal.

"You're alone _plenty._ "

He rolled his eyes. Worry was irrational sometimes, and yet the lack of it was probably something worse.

And it was getting worse.

"Anything happen while I was gone?" he asked. Chancing a glance, he caught the shift in her expression.

"Ask _Lydia,_ " she retorted, failing to hide her ire. "You left _her_ in charge, remember?"

Alec didn't respond, watching her fume until she continued, biting out, "I just don't understand how you can you can trust her after what she did—what she probably _has_ been doing this _entire_ time."

He merely shrugged in response. "The clave trusts her, so I do." The sting was subtle, as self-inflicted as it was out. Another brick of a work of progress.

Isabelle's voice grew pitched. "Are you going to tell _her_ where you've been all night?"

He sighed. "Let it go. I'm entitled to _some_ privacy." He rubbed the upper bridge of his nose, the pain starting to radiate out. "Where is she?"

"The head office," she huffed. "No need to rush. She stopped looking for you over an hour ago. I'm sure she's finished her _work_ by now."

"Drop the attitude," he intoned. "She's following orders, just like the rest of us."

He paused, stopping in the middle of the hallway to look at her directly, his gaze pointed.

"Aren't you supposed to be on patrol?" he asked.

Isabelle opened her mouth, something like sound starting to come out, but he suddenly couldn't stand to hear anymore.

" _Let it go,_ " he repeated. His tone was especially hard, harsh with nothing to soften it.

She rolled her eyes, ending in a glare, but graciously left him without another word.

He continued walking, taking a deep breath once he turned a corner into a rarely used hallway, leaning against the wall. His heart hurt and all he wanted to do was stop it, but there was still too much work to get done. For one, he couldn't let Lydia see him in yesterday's clothes.

* * *

"Productive morning?"

Lydia looked up, frowning as stared at Alec's back. He'd crossed the room without looking at her, intent on the large monitor that had been placed by the desk.

"I've already apologized," she responded tersely, somewhat defensive in response to the coldness in his voice. "I was under orders."

"I'm referring to last week's incident reports," he clarified, stabbing at his password on the glass, "not my _exceedingly_ personal review."

Lydia was taken aback by his surly tone. Despite her regular and constant visits, he'd been nothing but polite, all the weeks going on years they had spent working alongside each other.

She stared hard at the back of his head. "I'm evaluating the _entire_ institute, as I'm sure you're well aware. Are you no longer _comfortable_ being a major part of it?"

He didn't respond. A few moments passed and, despite his obvious ill-manner, Lydia was left feeling she had overreacted.

She cleared her throat, deciding to move on, get back on whatever track they had been on.

"You're up later than usual."

His shoulders twitched.

"Not criticizing," she was quick to add, "merely commenting."

"I was working upstairs," he responded stiffly, fiddling with the screen. "Were there any problems last night?"

She answered promptly. "Nothing so serious it wasn't quickly taken care of. May I ask how the meeting with the Seelies went?"

She segued into the new topic rather abruptly, but she couldn't deny her interest. The evening before, he'd called her in a rush, sparing just a few minutes to talk her into overseeing the night patrols. His voice was stilted and his argument convincing. The conversation had been rather odd and she could only assume something had gone wrong in the Faerie realm.

"It was pointless." He was dismissive. "I'll send you the report directly once I write it, if you're interested."

Lydia gave some audible assent, continued to eye him carefully, and decided it was best to move on.

She cleared her throat. "When you have the time, I would like to discuss my progress on this month's review."

Alec immediately stopped and turned to face her, his face unreadable.

"Well, I'm here now so," he gestured at her to continue.

Lydia tried for a pleasant smile against his rather stony expression. Perhaps it was the lighting, but his face looked rather gray and drawn, dark shadows under his eyes.

"I know it's still a few days to the end of the week, but I'll be leaving tomorrow morning. I've nearly completed my review and I believe I have everything I need, unless there's anything else you would like me to add?"

He betrayed no emotion, remaining passive. "Is that good or bad news?"

Lydia raised her eyebrows. "I'm not quite at liberty to say, but if the clave accepts my recommendation, I hope it'll be at least another few months before you see me here again in any official capacity."

Alec nodded slowly, not really looking at her. Otherwise, he was still, unreactive. Lydia nearly didn't expect him to respond.

"I'd requested permission to search a building in Greenwood," he said suddenly. "Three affiliated vampires reside there. Mundanes were often seen entering but none have come out or been seen since. Their clan wanted nothing to do with them. It's a gray area, but all that's really required is a go-ahead from the clave so we can enter and gather evidence of any crimes. However, it's been a few weeks and we've yet to receive any response."

"Really?" Lydia was intrigued. "That's highly irregular."

"It's really not." Alec looked down at his feet, rocking his heel on the carpet. "You must know we pay the Seelies to maintain a glamour to keep mundanes away during the day since we can't use runes on the structure. They've just asked for more to keep it up at the site another week. _That's_ irregular. They don't usually play their hand so soon. We're paying them more than enough as it is."

"What do they want?"

He shrugged. "I didn't ask. It's not worth it." He stared down at his feet, frowning.

Lydia was sympathetic. "I'm sure the clave will respond soon."

Alec rolled his eyes, his voice sour. "They won't. That's just how the bureaucracy works on my end."

"I don't believe that." Her voice was cool again. "How would you get anything done?"

"Unsanctioned missions." His tone matched hers. "Technically."

Lydia straightened. "Alec," was all she said, too surprised to say anything else.

He continued. "It happens rarely, but I'm sure anyone could understand. In my position, I'm required to make judgment calls.. There are some problems that only get worse if left alone for too long, and even small problems can accumulate into larger ones. The city would be in chaos and the clave knows it, so they pretend not to notice, just waiting for—" He stopped and his gaze was suddenly intense. "To be clear, no one else in this Institute has any idea."

Lydia stared at him. "I don't know what to say."

Alec shrugged. "Add it to your report. Like I said, the clave knows; I'm surprised you didn't. I know you didn't think much of me when we first met."

Lydia stiffened. Her voice was tight. "Exiles are not a popular conversation topic in Idris. As such, your position in the New York Institute is not openly discussed. But," she hesitated, "it had only been a few months at that point. Nearly everyone lost someone; it's hard to forget those who didn't, and why."

Alec tilted his head as he looked at her, his expression abruptly blank. "My sister was there. She was injured."

Lydia sighed. "I'll admit, I came here with some prejudice. However, after gaining access to your file, and with everything that eventually came to light, I understand that the trials were, in some cases, unfair on both sides. For one, you did nothing worse than your—"

"There's no comparison." Alec spoke over her, straightening to full height and visibly bristling. "What I did was—" he stopped, clenching his jaw as he took a breath through his nose. He appeared to relax after, his voice flatly calm. "You're right. The trials were unfair. It could've been worse; I just have to be sure not to forget that."

Lydia's brow furrowed. "Whatever you think you deserve, it's not quite this. Despite your," she paused, looking for the right word, " _handicap,_ you've kept up with your duties pretty well, and you've nearly managed a reconciliation with a few Downworlder groups. Having an envoy present to observe you may be the clave considering offering you a second chance. Of course, no conditions were explicitly laid out for a pardon, but there is precedent for the terms of exile being lifted within a few years, or in extenuating circumstances."

"That was before," Alec scoffed, then added, "and you mean decades, not years. Besides, the Inquisitor was pushing for banishment in accordance with the council. I doubt their regrets extend much further than not getting what they wanted. They send me here expecting me to die or mess up within a month, and then they send you when that didn't happen."

Lydia frowned. "You've more than proved yourself. This institute has always been problematic, even before that last battle. Were the clave to remove you from your position here, they would be making a mistake."

He half smiled. "That's debatable, but thanks." His expression dissolved into a frown. "Just be sure not to put anything like that in your report. You wouldn't want to be on the wrong side."

She eyed at him critically, his face in the light, something odd in his expression, his general demeanor. Drastically different since before she really noticed. She hesitated briefly before asking, "are you alright?"

"Of course," he answered, blinking at her. "Why wouldn't I be?"

She thought carefully before responding. Her tone was even. "You look like you haven't slept."

"I'm fine." His voice was firmer. He abruptly turned his body and attention back to the map on the screen.

Lydia stared at him, but when more wasn't forthcoming, she let it go, standing and moving toward the door.

"Thank you for taking the time to speak with me. I will be looking forward to reading your report. I'm sure it will be... _interesting._ "

"Report?" His fingers tapped against the desk. "I guess I'll get on that."

* * *

* * *

_From the NY Institute:_

_To all in or near the Northwestern Brooklyn region, be on the lookout for suspicious Downworlder activity in crowded mundane areas. There was an incident reported last night in a mundane club involving suspected Downworld drugs; however, not much more is known at this time. Units will be assigned to patrol areas of interest during night hours. Shadowhunters living in adjacent areas and select others will be contacted with new assignments for the week before 6PM this evening._

_...DRAFT SAVED_

* * *

* * *

The drop was sudden. The nagging headache had been one thing, barely manageable, then the abrupt onset of fatigue. His hands trembled as he raised them on the glass, simple motion suddenly becoming that much more difficult.

His vision blurred, like he'd been staring at the monitor all day when it was barely past noon. Despite everything that had happened, he'd felt well rested on waking up that morning; it was just thinking about it made his headache grow worse. He idly wondered if another _iratze_ would help.

"What are you doing?"

Alec startled, involuntarily twisting his head around to look behind him even as he recognized the voice. He'd been sure to close the door, expecting that anyone else would knock. Unfortunately, his sister only heeded such conventions sparingly.

Isabelle leaned against the doorframe, watching him. He took a breath, trying to relax. It wasn't her he'd been worried about anyway, and yet he felt his heart beating harder than usual, the sound in his ears. He turned back to the screen before answering, his voice controlled. "There are dozens of mundane bars and clubs, all scattered, in just one neighborhood alone."

"Mundanes enjoy their alcohol," Isabelle mused, voice moving closer. "No surprise there."

She was soon standing beside him and he could barely stop his shoulders from tensing, struggling not to react overtly as she stared at the map along with him. Dots marked where he'd been told he'd been, where he knew he'd been, and anywhere he may have been. Possibly more than there had to be, but he didn't quite trust the Downworlder to not have lied to him. His memory of the morning was a bit hazy after all. In hindsight, accepting any drink had been a mistake, but at least it hadn't killed him outright.

"Isabelle," he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the screen with some effort, "I really don't have time to talk right now."

She was quiet and he was trying so hard to pretend to be interested in the map that it took a moment for him to notice. He reluctantly turned to her, cautiously resting his eyes on her profile, and let out a breath. "What is it?" he asked warily.

She hummed, not taking her eyes off the monitor. Her voice was carefully blank. "Nothing that can't wait. Don't let me distract you from your _very important_ work."

He rolled his eyes and felt a mild sensation of vertigo that had him clutching the edge of the desk. He blinked twice and it was gone. He shoved it out of his mind as some symptom of underlying exhaustion; he had no idea how long he'd actually slept. He hadn't thought to ask. "Just tell me what you want."

"About earlier," Isabelle finally looked back at him, showing off her most saccharine smile, "I guess I can forgive you."

Alec sighed, crossed his arms and waited.

She continued, "I know the queen is nearly impossible to deal with. I can only imagine what she must have said to get you in such a terrible mood. I'll be happy to join you next time."

"No," he responded simply, like every other time, but it had been a while and so he raised an eyebrow. "Breakup with Meliorn again?" That might explain some things. He hadn't realized the queen cared.

Isabelle shrugged, her expression fixed. "Kind of, but I'll fix it, eventually." She didn't elaborate.

"As long as you're not doing it on my account." He frowned, "I've been meaning to ask, I know it's been a while, but whatever happened to Simon?"

She blinked at him, surprised. "You banned him from the Institute, remember?"

"Oh, did I?" He couldn't remember. He doubted he'd meant it. "You never said anything."

She shrugged again, avoiding his gaze now. "We had new recruits coming in to train. It got pretty busy."

He sighed. She was leaving something out, he could tell, but he was in no mood to get into it. He turned back to the monitor, hoping she would be leaving him soon. "Well, we don't have as many now, and since you're here, you must have some afternoons free. If you want Simon to start coming over again, I won't say anything."

"Really?" He could feel her staring at him. "Are you feeling alright?"

Her question was only partly serious, but still, he found he couldn't really lie to her. "Headache, mostly unrelated. Now, if you're done, I'm still busy."

She ignored him, turning to the screen again so they stared at it together. She was silent for just a moment, eyes darting from dot to dot, a small number color coded. "Were there any developments with the Brooklyn vampires, or are you just doing this for fun?"

"Vamp—?" He started to ask, then stopped. His eyes flickered over to her, confused. "You didn't get the notice I sent out?"

She raised an eyebrow. "The last message you send me was last week, reminding me to pick up that coffee Lydia likes."

"I send out a notice earlier today. You didn't—" He turned back to the monitor, using the narrow keyboard to flip through various windows, disguising the tremble of his arms with the rapid movement. He stopped abruptly.

"Oh," he muttered. He frowned deeply, feeling his forehead crease. "I forgot to send it."

She bumped his shoulder playfully. "I guess the clave has reason to question your competence after all."

"Funny," he responded dryly, and hit send.

Her phone chimed. He gave her a minute, briefly returning to the map.

"Alec!"

He cringed, resisting the urge to turn his head again, watching her carefully from the corner of his eye. "Yes?"

"What is this?"

He kept his voice bland. "Wrote it this morning; just forgot to send it out."

"Downworld drugs in mundane clubs?" She gave him a hard look. "Alec, that sounds serious. Why didn't you call a meeting as soon as the report came in?"

" _Suspected_ Downworld drugs," he pointed out. "Rearranging a few patrols is fine for now. No point in getting everyone worked up until we have more information." He sighed, adding, "It might even be nothing."

Isabelle continued to stare at him. "Alec," she started, "the Institute is liable—"

" _I know,_ " he snapped. "Just like I know this situation doesn't quite warrant an emergency briefing. You know as well as I do that the others are looking for another opportunity to undermine me in front of the clave. Can't necessarily pull the _Victor_ card with _them,_ can I?" He wasn't quite angry, more exasperated that his own sister was aware he didn't always quite know what he was doing. Nevertheless, conscious of what a briefing would entail, his, in all likelihood, _personal_ problem spun into a portentous issue, he was sure he had made the right choice this time. The only thing that mattered was being certain that no other Shadowhunter could or would be a target. Only then could he rest.

Isabelle paused, then sighed, looking down at her phone again. "Is this _really_ all you know?" She was incredulous.

"Yes." He was curt.

She huffed audibly. "They're not going to be happy with all these overnight patrols."

Alec tensed further and gave up the pretense of his intense interest in the screen, turning his body to face her. His voice was carefully controlled. "The report was made to me personally. I can't just ignore it."

"That's not what I meant." Isabelle rolled her eyes. "What I'm saying is, you're being too vague. Just let me go and talk to whoever made the report. I'll bet I can get—"

" _No._ "

Isabelle flinched back at his sharp tone and Alec struggled to appear like he hadn't noticed, turning back to the map. He was tired of talking.

"Why not?"

"Just...no." He winced at the weakness of his voice.

She was silent at his response and for a moment he was hopeful she would let the matter drop.

"Where'd you go yesterday?" she asked suddenly. "I _know_ the Queen makes an effort to release you before sunset."

He groaned and quickly tried to shut down the workstation, failing with clumsy fingers. "Let's not do this again."

"You were gone all night and you look like you haven't slept," she commented offhandedly. He flinched as she laid a hand on his arm. "Alec, you know I'd be the _last_ person to judge you. You can tell me _anything—_ "

"Izzy!" he exclaimed, forgetting himself, jerking his head to see that the door was shut before blankly facing the screen once more, fingers tripping desperately over the keys. He took a breath but his voice was terse and he spoke quickly. "It's _nothing_ like what you're thinking. There was just a small mishap. I don't want to talk about it." He felt relief as he managed to power down the station on his third attempt. He immediately moved toward the door, walking with heavy feet. It was unavoidable; he would probably need a stamina rune to make it upstairs.

"Alec!" Isabelle called behind him, exasperated. "If you really don't want to talk about it, fine. You can take as many _'walks'_ as you want. Just please promise me you're keeping away from Brooklyn, alright? The werewolves have been acting fussier than usual."

He stopped and sighed "Of course. What would I be doing in Brooklyn?" It helped that he was facing the door as he lied through his teeth. "It's too lou— _bright_ in here." He winced, though he'd already been more than obvious with his sudden need to escape. "I'll be working upstairs for the rest of the day." He continued walking, head pounding with each step.


	3. Effects

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec just needs rest, but Isabelle isn't quite convinced and Lydia is more worried than expected.

Isabelle hesitated before the partially open door, nervously smoothing the flat strands of her hair and clean lines of her fitted but functional skirt with the firm pressure of her palm. She straightened her back and lifted her chin, taking a deep breath before lifting a loose fist, much more relaxed than she was, to tap at the door frame. "Lydia? You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, come in."

Isabelle pushed open the door and stepped inside, allowing her eyes to take a sweeping glance across the room that was empty all but twelve weeks of the year.

Lydia looked up from a small desk in the far corner of the room. "Isabelle, thank you for coming." She stood, moving to where Isabelle lingered by the door.

"Are you going somewhere?" Isabelle asked, eying the bed topped with short, tidy stacks of clothing and few other items.

"Yes, I'll be leaving sometime tomorrow." Lydia spoke briskly, barely leaving time for her to process the information. "I'm sorry that I had you return to the Institute on such short notice. I hope that I didn't interrupt anything important."

Isabelle smiled tightly, keeping her tone cordial. "I imagine you had a good reason. What do you need?"

"I'm looking for Alec. He's not answering my calls. Do you have any idea where he might be?"

Isabelle raised her eyebrows. "I already told Sebastian; if Alec's not in the office or any of the training rooms, then he's usually holed up in his room, working."

"Well," Lydia sighed, looking mildly annoyed, "I've knocked and received no response. I also have others searching for him throughout the building and its grounds. At this point, it appears that he is not in the Institute."

Isabelle narrowed her eyes. "Alec would never leave the Institute without telling anyone; he's well aware of his responsibilities."

"Then maybe you could tell me where to find him?" Lydia looked at her expectantly.

Isabelle frowned slightly. "I don't know what you expect me to say. If he's not responding, maybe he's just fallen asleep."

Lydia frowned back at her. Her response was flat. "Isabelle, I'm well aware of the act you two put on when I'm here; I've never fallen for it, and I won't start now."

Isabelle barely held back a grimace, resisting the urge to comment on the assumption. Her and Alec's relationship had become complicated months before Lydia had even stepped foot in New York.

The two of them had always been close, before and especially after the loss of their parents. Not even Jace had been able to change that. He just became another person they could both depend on, though when that started to change they hadn't expected that everything else soon would too.

Their separation had felt longer than it was. When she met her brother again, it was in the midst of massive responsibility. For weeks after she arrived at the Institute, she was perpetually on call and the vitalness of her duties as a Shadowhunter had never been more apparent. She rarely saw her brother and it was only after that she learned how Alec had kept up with his own endless obligations.

It was inevitable that their relationship change. He no longer told her everything. They both adapted to their new public roles, clashing schedules, and he learned to keep to himself whenever he could. However, despite what most of the Institute assumed, they still trusted each other more than anyone. Isabelle could only imagine it was their badly concealed disagreements that gave Lydia the impression they had something to hide, but the 'performances' weren't limited to any particular time frame—that she knew of—or an act at all. Lydia herself was only an occasional topic of contention, albeit a major one, occasional only because Alec had quickly tired of it.

She worked a more pleasant expression onto her face. "I apologize if that came off as condescending. The last time Alec and I spoke, several hours ago, he told he would be working for the remainder of the day and didn't mention any other plans. However, he looked exhausted, which is why I suspect he might be sleeping." Come to think of it, she should have checked in on him before leaving the Institute, but he'd made it all too clear that he didn't want to be disturbed.

Lydia tightened her lips. "I didn't realize he was a heavy sleeper."

Isabelle shrugged. "He's usually not, but time passes strangely in the Seelie realm." Only half of what she said was true. "My stele works on his door. I'll go take a look. If he's there, I'll send him to you." She turned to leave.

"I'll go with you," Lydia interjected, "to save time."

Isabelle paused, not immediately prepared to dissuade her in a _polite_ manner, but Lydia was already walking ahead out the door. Isabelle sighed and did her best to catch up. "What's going on?" she asked, after realizing Lydia wasn't planning to elaborate. "Why the rush?"

"As I have been _repeatedly_ informed," Lydia started, voice stiffer than usual, "Alec was supposed to send out new patrol schedules and assignments for tonight, but hasn't. Did you receive the earlier announcement regarding that incident in Brooklyn?"

"I did," Isabelle affirmed.

Lydia made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a huff. "I don't understand why he would attempt to keep that from me."

"What do you mean?" Isabelle started to ask before realizing they were rapidly approaching Alec's door, its silvery-white doorknob brilliant and out of place within the wood paneled hall. Lydia turned to her as they stopped, gaze pointed. Isabelle stepped forward, thumping at the door loudly with her fist before drawing her stele.

She carefully traced the pale esoteric protection rune placed conspicuously above the doorknob, seemingly decorative if not for the _adamas_ just below it. As the lock clicked she sneaked a quick glance at Lydia, but her face revealed nothing. As far as Isabelle knew, this was the one place the clave had yet to poke around in, it's security installed just a week prior to Lydia's first visit.

The _adamas_ and platinum alloy forming the doorknob and locks weren't completely insurmountable obstacles, but ones that could be bypassed rather simply through brute, destructive, and loud force. The point was that Alec couldn't be caught off guard; the next mysterious "gift" left behind might not be so benign.

The clave's future interference hadn't even been on either of their minds at the time. While he'd been all too willing to dismiss a series of seemingly isolated incidents, she'd been too paranoid on his behalf to let it go. Since discovering what Lydia had been up to during her last visit, and likely had been doing periodically, Isabelle was still waiting for her brother to thank her on more than one count.

She pushed open the door and peered in, the light from the hall cutting a thick stripe across the empty bed. She walked in further, the stream of light growing slightly wider, and turned to the right side of the room, eyes skimming across a desk piled with books, and then further still to the couch pushed up against the front wall.

It was the darkest corner of the room, behind the door, and even with the curtains drawn back, the colored glass fully exposed, there was little light. Nevertheless, she could discern a familiar figure stretched out across the cushions.

Isabelle sighed, partly in relief, and spoke aloud to Lydia without turning. "He's in here. Just give me a minute." Even with the bed just feet away, this wasn't the first time this had happened

She kept the door as it was, its light permeating the dark. "Alec!" she called, nearly stumbling as she approached his prone figure. She immediately steadied herself, the culpable object lighting up by her feet.

"Alec," she said again, half-heartedly, distracted as she leaned down to pick up the device, "wake up." She frowned as she recognized the clave-issued phone, wondering how long he'd been stuck with it without her noticing.

"Alec," she repeated, looking up from the cheap plastic. She was all too aware of Lydia waiting just outside the door. "You forgot to send out the assignments." She stepped closer to shake his shoulder. "Alec, wake up!" He'd never been this heavy a sleeper.

His arm shifted, falling off the couch, and hand reaching for the floor. For a moment, she thought he was awake, then she jerked at the cold that grazed her ankle. A heavy feeling settled into her chest when there was no further movement.

She deftly reached out towards his neck, barely relieved by the warmth, her panic only eased with the feel of the too quick but still unmistakable rhythm against her fingers.

"Isabelle, is everything alright?"

Lydia's voice, barely muffled by the door, gave her a start. She briefly struggled to get words out, her throat tight. "Call the clave doctor. There should be some paper on the desk."

"What's going on?"

Isabelle didn't respond, but it didn't matter. The light flickered on, brightening the room, and she blinked rapidly, eyes adjusting to the shift. She heard Lydia enter, footsteps briefly stalling somewhere behind her before continuing wordlessly.

Meanwhile, she quickly studied her brother, the ashen pallor of his cheek disconcerting. She lifted his shirt, examining his back for any bruises or more grievous wounds, but only finding the thin scars of long faded marks and a handful of black, thickly etched runes.

She struggled to turn him over without flinging him to the floor. He had the appearance of having thrown himself on the couch, on the verge of collapse, she imagined, discovering an active stamina rune on his flank. She frowned at the sight of it and crudely rendered it inert with a swipe of her stele, feeling his heart rate slow in response. She followed it up with an _iratze_ just in case, watching it sink into his skin immediately and disappear with no discernable effect.

She prods at him anyway; he doesn't stir.

There's a deep hiss and snap behind her, the fleeting smell of smoke. With the fire message on its way, Lydia finally asks, "What's wrong with him?"

"I'm not sure." Isabelle is tense, anxious, and likely sounds it, speaking rapidly. "This can't be a normal sleep. There was an active stamina rune on his torso." She touched his hand again, briefly rubbing his fingers between her palms. "He needs to be warmed up." She straightened, moving towards the door. "I'll get someone to move him to the bed."

"What about the infirmary?" Lydia suggested.

"No," Isabelle said immediately. "He wouldn't want the others to see him like this." She paused at the door, looking back at Lydia intently, realizing she would be allowing her unhindered access to the room. "If you don't mind staying with him, I'll direct the doctor upstairs and pick up some supplies from the infirmary."

Lydia looked perfectly competent. "Of course not."

Isabelle sighed quietly. She really had no other choice. She left, leaving the door wide open behind her, like it would make a difference.

* * *

* * *

"...on-site, standby for further..."

Isabelle loitered on the outer edges of the crowd, newly arrived and immediately lost as to the who and what was being addressed over a sea of heads. She'd managed to catch Lydia's eye as she walked in, and now she waited, not at all patiently, more disturbed than she thought she'd be at the sight of Lydia speaking unaccompanied on the dais.

It barely mattered that she had long since given up living in denial of certain facts. The truth was, she admired Lydia, enough to maintain a slightly thicker veneer of respectability when she was present, and not just for her brother's benefit. If there was ever an act, that was it, and it was a rather poor one. She couldn't help that her thoughts and privately shared words often remained contradictory; she hadn't trusted Lydia from the start, with good reason. Lydia represented the clave and their interests, which just so happened to be firmly against her brother. Her periodic presence in their lives was a constant reminder, the worst kind of stressor, like there wasn't enough to worry about.

The gathering of Nephilim dispersed eventually, some settling back at their stations just feet away, the rest flowing in every other direction. Isabelle moved forward as Lydia started down the steps of the platform, struggling to retain some measure of calm though she was anything but, keeping her approach steady and meeting Lydia at the bottom.

"Why wasn't I told about the meeting?" The question came out terse—not a great start.

Lydia looked at her, perplexed. "I thought you would prefer to stay with your brother. Was I wrong?"

It was a reasonable response to her own, rather petulant, one, its effect being that her irritation increased, though she made a better attempt to hide it. "What did you tell them about Alec?"

"The truth." Lydia spoke with a cool calm, sounding just as she had standing up on the platform. "He's temporarily incapacitated and thus unavailable. Is he awake yet?"

Isabelle shook her head, biting her cheek to keep her own face under control. "He was for a short while, but was still mostly out of it. The doctor administered a sedative, so he won't be waking up again anytime soon. She believes he's been overusing his stamina rune and is concerned about the stress on his heart." She nearly rolled her eyes but grudgingly added, "it's happened before."

Lydia frowned, the movement slight. "And the blood analyses? Does he usually send samples down to the lab without informing you?"

Isabelle hesitated before answering, puzzled as to whether Lydia found the situation as curious as she did, or if she had other motives.

With little else to go on, the doctor had immediately ordered Alec's blood drawn and an array of tests be performed. Despite her reluctance to leave her brother's side, Isabelle had taken up the duty. On her entry into the lab, she'd been surprised by another tech, apparently called in by Alec sometime that morning, in the middle of conducting a more extensive workup of another sample, its source unknown. With a glance at the preliminary findings, it hadn't been difficult for her to determine that the blood was likely Alec's own.

It mystified her as to why he hadn't thought to tell her. Though unavailable that morning, she had been free by the time the other tech had come in, and was also undeniably more competent. She at least would have thought to ask some questions before proceeding, mainly who and why, shortening the process to whatever goal. She couldn't help but to think it was all tied to whatever else it was he hadn't _wanted_ to tell her.

"As far as I'm aware," Isabelle responded, "no, he's never done this before, but, other than some mild dehydration, neither sample turned up anything unusual."

"Nothing?" Lydia was still frowning, but she also looked mildly surprised. "So, you agree with the doctor?"

Isabelle shrugged, continuing to eye her carefully. "I wouldn't quite say that. Traces of demonic energy were initially detected in the more recent sample, but I couldn't replicate the readings and the rest of the blood work wasn't consistent. Still, Alec must have had a reason for doing what he did, so just to be sure, I've called in a Silent Brother to consult. He should be here within an hour."

Lydia nodded, expression relaxing somewhat. "You're excused from your duties for the time being. I want you to stay close to Alec. Keep me updated if anything changes." She was about to walk away but Isabelle drew her back.

"Where is everyone going?"

Lydia turned to face her again, seemingly reluctant. "I'm keeping up with the arrangements Alec made, in case there's another incident."

"What about all the extra personnel? Most of them weren't even on the shortlist."

"Well," Lydia paused, oddly, before continuing, "a few of them may be needed to carry out additional orders, if necessary."

"What kind of orders?"

Lydia visibly hesitated, but her voice was level when she finally spoke, tone blander than her words. "Someone suggested that I not tell you anything until there was more information, but I can't imagine why you wouldn't have the right to know." Lydia took a breath, exhaling audibly as she looked hard at Isabelle. "Two teams are being sent to track Alec's whereabouts last night starting from Brooklyn, though they haven't been given those orders as of yet. I have reason to believe something may have happened to Alec last night that may have contributed to his current state."

"Brooklyn?" Isabelle was bemused. "Alec wouldn't have gone to Brooklyn. Luke's pack is still there; he's not suicidal."

Lydia shrugged. "There was an incident report found in the office, filed off-site sometime this afternoon by a Gareth Rothstone. It puts Alec with him in Greenwood sometime yesterday."

"What?" Isabelle shook her head in disbelief. "What happened?"

"Vampire attack," Lydia responded simply. "It was three against two, but it appears they came out of it relatively unharmed; only Gareth was bit."

Isabelle sighed, becoming increasingly more worried. "Does this have anything to do with the vampires we've been monitoring in that neighborhood? I saw Alec looking at a map of the surrounding area just this morning." He'd lied to her.

Lydia nodded. "I believe they're the same. The attack occurred just outside the complex. The team scheduled to be on watch that evening had been dismissed and the person in charge of that operation claims that Alec ordered it suspended until further notice."

"Gareth must be confused," Isabelle said. "There were only two vamps in the building. All the local clans have been warned to avoid that area, and so far, they've been complying. Depending on the quantity of venom that entered his bloodstream, it's possible he may have been experiencing hallucinations. We can't put much stock into his report. I can't imagine why he didn't just leave it up to Alec to begin with."

Lydia's brow furrowed. "Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get in touch with Gareth, but I've send him a fire message asking him to come in for questioning."

"Questioning?" Isabelle stared at her. "You think Gareth did something to him?"

"With the little we know, there are very few people we can discount. It certainly is possible that the doctor is right and Alec's merely exhausted, but there have been a few things that I've noticed that are a bit suspect."

Isabelle shook her head "Alec was in a pretty bad mood when he came back this morning, but he would have said something if Gareth, or anyone—"

"Wait," Lydia interrupted. "Alec didn't come back last night?"

Isabelle paused briefly, confused. "I thought you knew," she said. "He left you in charge of the Institute all last night."

"No," Lydia frowned at her. "I was just covering his shift overseeing the night patrols. He called me to say he was running late. I assumed it was because of his meeting, but I suppose it was his detour in Brooklyn. I thought he'd merely overslept this morning, which was just one of the reasons I found it hard to believe—" Lydia bit her lip, betraying some nerves, and walked over to the nearest computer some distance away. "This might be more serious than I initially thought."

Isabelle followed her. "Lydia, hold on. What makes you so sure something happened to Alec in _Brooklyn_? I think we should look into—" She stopped abruptly, seeing another Shadowhunter approaching them.

"Gareth Rothstone is here. He's waiting in the office."

Lydia acknowledged the statement with a nod. "Thank you, Ben."

Isabelle started again once they were alone, voice low. "Alec said there was a 'mishap' that kept him out all night, but he wouldn't tell me anything more. If he had some kind of disagreement with the Queen before leaving the court, the Seelies could be involved in this."

Lydia sighed. "While the Seelies may actually have been the reason for his foray across the river, we can't jump to conclusions until we know more. Alec mentioned that they were threatening to remove their glamours from that building in Greenwood unless he complied with their demands, but they gave him a week to make a final decision. It doesn't explain why he chose to visit the site the same night rather than wait a day or two. If we discover some more definitive evidence that points to the Seelies' involvement, then I will request a meeting with one of their representatives."

"I have contacts in the court," Isabelle said immediately. "I can—"

"Isabelle," Lydia said carefully, "if the Seelies did have something to do with this, indirectly or not, I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

"Then I won't go alone. I'll bring someone with me."

"We'll talk about this later," Lydia dismissed her abruptly, turning away. "I need to go meet with Gareth."

"I'll come with you." She mimicked Lydia from earlier.

Lydia stopped. "The Silent Brother could be coming in at any minute."

She shrugged, the motion careless and not at all an accurate reflection of how she actually felt. "They like to take their time. I'll just check in with the doctor, if she's still here, to let her know. I'll meet you there in a few minutes." She hurried away before Lydia could respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case anyone following this story has noticed and is wondering, this was going to be chapter 4 but I've combined the last two chapters so this is now chapter 3.
> 
> Also, I recently realized that AO3 doesn't have any kind of PM feature, so if you want to contact me privately, you can find me on tumblr as [melloak](https://melloak.tumblr.com) and leave me a **message,** or **ask** if you don't have a blog.


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